


That's My Brother

by StutteryPrince



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Clemencia is a sweetheart, Demencia doesn't want her brother to fall in with a hero, Flug is happy, Samolet is a bigger one, White Spats is just a dad who wants what's best for everyone, and Black Hat is in there somewhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-05-18 12:39:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14852916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StutteryPrince/pseuds/StutteryPrince
Summary: When Black Hat and Demencia break one of Flug's inventions, it results in Demencia and Flug getting thrust into an alternate dimension where everything is same but it all seems...Heroic? To their surprise (and extreme distrust), White Hat allows them to stay without so much of a complaint so Flug can rebuild his invention and they can get home.At first, the trust of the Black Hat employees isn't the easiest thing to earn, but they slowly start to warm up to the others. It all seems fine, until Demencia notices just how close Flug and Clemencia had gotten. There's NO WAY she's going to let him date a HERO, let alone a frufru pastel pink one, and she's going to do everything in her power to put a stop to it.And Samolet's gonna help her, whether he wants to or not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally fell in love with a design for Clemencia (different from the one I've made in story) and I had to project it onto Flug or else I was gonna explode.  
> My Flug and Demencia Blog: lizards-and-lunchbags.tumblr.com

Okay, now this wasn't  _ his  _ fault.

 

_ Black Hat _ was the one who crushed the machine and threw it back at him and  _ Demencia _ was the one who tackled him to the ground to see what was sparking in his hands. When the portal opened up on the floor and sucked them both in, Flug was hardly surprised.

 

The doctor groaned when he hit the floor, wheezing when Demencia's weight came crashing down upon him soon after. While she sprang up just fine, he was left hacking and coughing, holding his abdomen as he rolled over onto his hands and knees. Just as he glared over his shoulder to yell at her for what he was sure was a punctured lung, he froze at the familiar feeling of a raygun pressed to the side of his head.

 

“Who are you,” demanded a voice much too similar to his own, but just a smidge deeper. “How did you get here?”

 

Slowly, Flug rose to his feet, hands in the air as he continued to keep his head turned to Demencia. She looked confused, if not a bit panicked, and Flug called her name to draw her attention back him.

 

_ “Dede...Quien tiene el arma?” _

 

“Uh... _ tu.” _

 

_ “Que.” _

 

Flug huffed when the raygun was pressed harder against his temple, knocking his bag and goggles askew. 

 

“Quit talking to  _ her _ and answer  _ my _ question,” the voice growled. “Or there will be consequences.”

 

Flug didn't panic when he heard the gun hum to life, but he did wave for Demencia to calm down, hearing her hiss violently. Just as he contemplated attempting to snatch the raygun away from whoever had it, the feeling was gone with a strangled yelp from the other party. Flug heard the raygun clatter to the ground and he snatched it up in an instant, jumping back to stand next to Demencia, ready to fire.

 

“Demencia! Where's your mace? We're about to f...fight-what the hell…?”

 

Flug’s attention followed Demencia's, both of them staring at the other two in front of them. One of them looked just like Flug, but with a lot more red, black, and spikes. He certainly  _ looked  _ like a more devious version of the Doctor, but with how he was currently screaming,  _ “UNCLE! UNCLE!”, _ with desperation at the girl bending his arm behind his back, it wasn’t exactly clear. The girl looked like a Demencia, but much more soft and not as loud in color or personality from the looks of it _. _ She was all pinks, blues, and pastels, having a unicorn for a hat instead of a lizard. Her ponytail actually looked like that of a pony, pretty and _ extremely _ long with a big pink and white bow where it met the back of her head.

 

“Sammy~! What did Spattie say about hurting guests?”

 

“T-T-To not to!-Ow! Clemencia, let me go, damn it!-OW O _ W OW OW MOTHER OF FUCK OW SHIT LETGOLETGOLETGO!!” _

 

His kicking and screaming only increased when she pulled harder on his arm, yanking it further behind his back. 

 

“Language, Samolet! And I'll let you go if you use the magic word.”

 

_ “Bite me!” _ When she shrugged and leaned down to do just that, he stomped and tried to scramble away. “NO NO WAIT OKAY I'LL SAY IT! Let me go...p..please?”

 

“Samolet” dropped to the ground once “Clemencia” let go, panting as he held his arm. She stepped over him, walking up to the two dumbfounded villains with a sweet smile on her face.

 

“Sorry about that. Sammy can get a bit hostile when he hasn’t had his afternoon nap.”

 

“SCREW YOU,” he shouted from the ground, groaning when he was kicked.

 

“Anyway, welcome to White Spats Corporation. I'm Clemencia, nice to meet you.”

 

Flug and Demencia looked at her outstretched hand with confusion, shaking it slowly and not taking their eyes off her. She chuckled and motioned for them to follow her, watching as she picked up Samolet and carried him despite his protesting. Flug jumped when Demencia nudged him, both of them still in shock as they padded after the two.

 

“Do they remind you of anybody?” she whispered, eyes traveling down the length of Clemencia’s pastel pink ponytail with slight disgust.

 

“Demencia, don’t ask me silly questions. This is clearly an alternate universe of some kind that we ended up in when  _ you _ and  _ Black Hat _ broke my machine.”

 

Flug grumbled when Demencia giggled, priming himself to scold her for taking this so lightly, but the conversation fell silent when Clemencia suddenly pushed open a set of doors. She tossed Samolet over her shoulder to do so, the annoyed man looking at Flug and Demencia with pure scorn in his goggles.

 

“You two are  _ so _ dead.”

 

“Ay, Boss! We got some people I think you need to meet!”

 

Flug and Demencia paled at hearing Clemencia call for her boss, both of them shaking as they thought of what could possibly be in the chair near the window. Upon instinct, Flug grabbed Demencia’s hand and her hair wrapped around his ankle, the two going shoulder to shoulder and straightening their backs as the chair turned.

 

“Ah, capital! New friends!”

 

Flug and Demencia didn’t move beyond opening their eyes, looking at the version of Black Hat before them, surprised to find him to be relatively the same, if not a bit taller than their boss. Everything that was supposed to be black was white and everything that was supposed to be red was a baby blue, along with the addition to a flower in his breast pocket. He looked almost...friendly?

 

“Well, come on then! Bring’em over to my desk!”

 

Demencia and Flug walked in perfect unison, unaware of the strange looks they were receiving from the others. They avoided eye contact with “White Spats”, keeping their eyes glued to the carpet. They stayed silent, waiting to be spoken to.

 

“Um...are you two alright?”   
  


“We’re fine, sir,” they said together, still looking down at their feet.

 

White Spats glanced at Clemencia and Samolet, gesturing to the villains with concern. They both shrugged and White Spats sighed through his teeth, worrying at his lip as he turned back to the two nearly stock still villains in front of him.

 

“Uh…”

 

“If you’ll allow me to explain, sir?” Flug asked, looking up for a moment.

 

When White Spats nodded, Flug tilted his head back up, swallowing his fear and taking a deep breath before he began. 

 

“Greetings, Mister White Spats. I’m Doctor Flug and this is Demencia. From what I can tell, Mister White Spats sir, my coworker and I have been ripped from our own universe and thrust into yours due to a malfunction in one of my inventions. If you’ll allow us to stay here for the time being, I can get the invention fixed within a day or two and we’ll be gone before you know it.”

 

There was silence before White Spats snickered, biting his lip to keep from laughing. 

 

“That’s what you were so nervous to tell me, dear boy? That you broke one of your machines? There was no need to panic about that!”

 

Flug and Demencia looked at him with surprise, blinking slowly as they took in how he was acting. They were no stranger to manipulation, but that smile  _ did _ seem genuine. White Spats walked out from behind his desk and pretended not to see Flug reaching toward the raygun on his belt and Demencia glaring at him, smiling at them nonetheless.

 

“No worries, loves! You can stay here as long as you need to! Sammy and Clemencia will show you to the guest rooms.”

 

Flug jumped when Clemencia suddenly grabbed his shoulder, whipping around to her and pointing his raygun at her. She held up her hands, throwing out one to stop Samolet from advancing and showing that she was completely harmless and unarmed.

 

“Woah! Woah, woah, woah, easy, easy!”

 

Flug slowly relaxed, allowing Clemencia to hold him. She gently gripped his shoulder and his elbow, leaving him room to pull away if he so wished.

 

“You okay? All I did was grab you.”

 

“Don't worry about it…”

 

“Uuuh,  _ dude! _ I'm totally gonna worrying about now. Come on, you need some rest.”

 

For a moment, Flug considered moving out of her grip and insisting that he was fine, but for some reason he kept his mouth shut. He simply nodded and let her lead him, confused on why he did. Was it something she said? Maybe he was just scared of her from how he watched her twist Samolet’s arm. Either,  _ something  _ was making his chest tighten.

 

Samolet chuckled as Clemencia and Flug walked off down the hallway, but flinched when a quiet hiss rose from Demencia, the green haired girl watching the two go with a fire in her narrowed eyes. Samolet took a step back away from her, but held his shaking hand out nonetheless.

 

“F-Follow me, Miss Dementi _ -OUCH!” _

 

Demencia snatched up his hand and gripped it much too tightly, completely oblivious to his pleading as she stepped into the hallway. She glared as she caught sight of Flug standing up a bit straighter, closing a bit of the gap between him and Clemencia.

 

“I don't trust her.”

 

_ “CAN YOU PLEASE LET GO OF MY HAND?” _


	2. "Nice Tramp Stamp"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEET YAH THIS CHAPTER IS FILLER AND THERE'S ACTUALLY STUFF COMING WE JUST GOTTA GET THERE  
> My Flug and Demencia Blog: lizards-and-lunchbags.tumblr.com

Flug was surprised he was able to sleep in the room at all. It was all white with a few blue hues here and there, looking more like a padded cell than an actual room to him. And while he was no stranger to solitary confinement, the feeling of being in the room left him with the subtle paranoia that someone was gonna come in with a straight jacket for him eventually surprisingly wasn’t as prominent as he expected.

 

Despite the slightly unsettled feeling he had, Flug would admit that the bed he was in was unbelievably  _ soft _ . He had honestly woken up about an hour ago, but had refused to get out from underneath the cushy blanket. It as quite possibly the warmest and fluffiest thing he had ever touched, let under  _ slept under,  _ in a years, the fluffiness reminding him of 5.0.5. and calming him as he slept. With a yawn, he looked at the broken invention on his night stand, sighing heavily when he remembered that he had actual responsibilities still.

 

He didn't want to get up. He didn't want to work.

 

“Five more minutes,” he grumbled, rolling over and pulling the blanket over his head.

 

“UP AND AT’EM, BAG BOY!”

 

Flug sighed a quick, “God damn it.” before Demencia jumped onto his bed, landing on his ribs and crushing him. He wheezed before he shoved her off, glaring at her as she laughed.

 

“What is it, Demencia?”

 

“Those goodie-goodies are making breakfast!”

 

Flug stared at her for a good second before he grumbled for her to go away under his breath, pulling the blanket back up to his shoulders and closing his eyes. For a moment there was silence and he relaxed, thinking Demencia to have actually listened for once, but when he felt something creeping across his chest, he didn't have enough time to even yell at her.

 

Flug screamed when he was suddenly snatched from the bed, Demencia thundering off down the hallway on all fours with him wrapped up neatly in her hair.

 

_ “DEMENCIA!” _

 

Countless swears poured from his lips the faster she ran, but a solid “FUCK!” came from him when she skid to a stop, flinging him from her ponytail and sending him crashing against the cupboards. Flug groaned as he listened to her chortle like a maniac, shaking his head and jumping to his feet to yell at her.

 

“WHY ARE YOU LIKE TH-”

 

“Oh hey, there’s Trigger Fingers. ...Nice tramp stamp,” a voice much like his own, if not a bit deeper, said casually behind him.

 

Flug froze, a hot red blush blossoming across his cheeks as he slowly looked over his shoulder to find Samolet and Clemencia, both smiling at him and still dressed in their pajamas. Clemencia was sitting on the counter, holding spice bottles, while Samolet was at the stove with a pastel red apron tied around him, pancakes sizzling in the pan before him. Clemencia was looking away, blocking her view with a bottle of cinnamon, but she was clearly trying not to giggle, while Samolet was simply examining the design of his tattoo.

 

“I-I….” Flug stammered, positively  _ paralyzed. _

 

“Personally,” Clemencia peeked out from behind her barrier or spices. “I think it’s nice! It suits you!”

 

Flug could have sworn his nose was going to start bleeding with his hard he was starting to blush, feeling an impossible heat rushing across his entire face and neck as it spread to even his shoulders. Why did hearing _her_ say it make it that much more embarrassing?! And the fact that he was wearing a borrowed pair of her pajamas probably wasn't helping. He yanked the hem of the pastel pajama shirt down while Demencia all but wheezed on the floor, the scientist plopping down at the table and slamming his forehead against it. 

 

“Any other tattoos, chap?” White Spats teased, smiling as he set a mug of coffee next him. “We’d love to see!”

 

Flug glowered at him, but all White Spats did was chuckle, sitting down with his newspaper once he placed a bowl of sugar cubes and a pitcher of cream on the table. Flug stared at the coffee with suspicion, pulling it closer to himself when Demencia decided to sit down next to him, before he sniffed at it. It smelled normal enough and he risked a taste, dipping a gloved finger into it to do so. He placed his finger under his bag and in his mouth, cringing and gagging at the bitter taste of plain black coffee. Just as he started to reach for the sugars and cream, his gaze fell on Demencia, slowly looking in between her and the mug in his hands.

 

“Hey DeDe,” he chimed happily, smiling when she turned to him. “That little stunt you pulled  _ was  _ kinda fun. Here! I got you your favorite in return for waking me up!”

 

Demencia quickly snatched the mug from him, downing half of it before her eyes snapped open and she retched at the taste. Flug cackled as she choked and hacked, scraping at her tongue as she slammed the mug down. She started to throw the rest of the coffee at him, but White Spats gently grabbed it from her hands, resulting in her only throwing air and making Flug laugh harder. 

 

“Alright, everybody.” Clemencia called, walking over with plates balanced on her arms. “Breakfast!”

 

While she set the plates down, Samolet leaned out the doorway, whistling sharply. Flug and Demencia fell silent when the walls suddenly started shaking, tensing and grabbing at their weapons when Samolet started screaming, growing especially wary when neither Clemencia or White Spats reacted.

 

“SLOWDOWNSLOWDOWN- _ OOF!” _

 

Flug and Demencia rose from the table the moment something dark orange came rushing into the kitchen, barrelling into Samolet and effectively knocking him straight into the ceiling. Whatever the creature was kept him pressed there with its nose, growling deeply, but all Samolet did was wave his hands at Demencia and Flug.

 

“Nono! It’s okay! Don’t worry, I’m fine! This is just 8.4.8., he’s not hurting me. He’s just a teddy bear experiment that went wrong. Isn't that right,  _ moy milyy plyushevyy mishka?” _ Samolet cooed, squishing 8.4.8.’s cheeks even as he growled at him.

 

Samolet said something else in a the same different language and 8.4.8. rumbled quietly, slowly lowering to the ground and letting Samolet fall onto his back. The doctor chuckled and sighed, patting the bears back before 8.4.8. shook him off and nudged him away with his snout, wanting to be left to eat in peace. Despite the rough treatment, Samolet still smiled and plopped down at the table, pushing up his bag to eat his own breakfast.

 

Flug grimaced down at his breakfast, awkwardly glancing about the table as everyone ate. He wasn’t afraid of it being poisoned anymore, since Demencia seemed fine with half her plate already gone, but rather something else as he fiddled with the edge of his bag. White Spats seemed to notice his discomfort and reached over subtly, catching his attention before gesturing to his bag. 

 

“Would you like to eat in the other room,” he mouthed, tilting his head toward the door.

 

Flug’s eyes flickered suspiciously between his plate and White Spats kind expression before he stood with a sigh, picking up his plate and nodding. White Spats grinned and Flug scoffed, edging closer to Demencia as White Spats moved to tap Clemencia’s shoulder.

 

“Clem, dear, can you show Flug to the living room?”

 

Clemencia smiled and set her napkin aside, gesturing for him to follow as she walked out into the hallway, grabbing him another mug of coffee and the sugar bowl as they went. Demencia watched them go, her grip around her fork tightening when she heard Clemencia ask about Flug’s tattoo. She growled softly at the sight of Flug blushing, evident by the red creeping down his neck, but he laughed a bit regardless.

 

“Aren’t they cute?” White Spats chuckled, returning to his paper. 

  
“Yeah.” Demencia’s fork snapped.  _ “Adorable.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I forgot to mention:   
> White Hat sounds like Professor Layton  
> My Flug and Demencia Blog: lizards-and-lunchbags.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> My Flug and Demencia Blog: lizards-and-lunchbags.tumblr.com


End file.
